


Mom

by CaptainSaku



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Corpalis Syndrome, Drama, Gen, Implied (imminent) character death, Memory Loss, The Vakarians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSaku/pseuds/CaptainSaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Bahak System debacle, the Collectors have been defeated and Shepard has turned herself in to the Alliance to answer for her actions. Garrus decides to go home, something he has been putting off for way too long already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mom

**Author's Note:**

> This, too, was the result of a prompt: Send me “black bird” for a darker memory of my muse’s past.
> 
> The situation in the Vakarian household as Garrus’ mom is in the last stages of Corpalis is based loosely on tarysande’s take on it. (Honestly, if you aren't familiar with Tara's work, I strongly suggest you look her up right now.)

The first thing Garrus felt as he looked around the Cipritine shuttle station was the pain of a sturdy fist connecting with his jaw. He had obviously neither seen it coming nor been expecting it, and yet, something about it seemed awfully… familiar.

He knew that right hook, he realized. He knew it all too well. As well as the voice that followed.

“You  _idiot!_ ”

Solana. He should have known. There was no way he’d be able to stay low and arrive quietly, not when his dad had worked in Security and all passenger manifests were screened. Sol was, after all, their father’s daughter. Of _course_ she’d picked up a thing or two from Dad along the way. As had he.

Garrus turned to look at his little sister, just in time to see her face go from fury to utmost horror in zero seconds flat. 

"Garrus, what happened to your  _face_?” She reached up, hesitated, then stopped short and let her hand drop limply to her side.

Oooh, right. She didn’t know about that. He swallowed.

"Is… is this why you wouldn’t sync up for video chat with me? Garrus what–”

“I’ll explain later, Sol. At home. This is neither the time nor the place for it.” He cut her off, keeping his tone final but not without a certain warmth. He had known that Solana wouldn’t be on best terms with him even before he had resolved to return home. Even so, he did care about his little sister, and some part of him hoped that they would both be able to keep their feelings in check, at least until they got home. 

Garrus hadn’t been back on Palaven in  _years_. Everything was still the same, however: the same mechanical precision, the same efficiency at everything. No disruptions, no trouble, not even a damn traffic jam. Just discipline.

He felt out of place here. Sure, Palaven was home. He had been born and raised here, in this very city. Here, he had learned to tinker with electronics, to pull things apart and put them back together. Here, his father had taught him to shoot, his mother had shown him how to aim better. Here, he had had more than one fight with his little sister, more than one adventure.

Here, he had caused more trouble than warranted, at least for turian standards. It was here that he had found that he was exceptionally bad at being a turian, that his mindset did not fit well with the cogs and gears of the militarized machine that was the Hierarchy. Here, he had discovered that his way of doing things was not the “right” way, that his beliefs were insubordination and his actions frowned upon.

Here, he had excelled, striven to better and improve himself, his technique and tactics. Here, he had learned to follow orders, however crooked he believed them to be, he had learned not to question authority and he had learned to be an exemplary citizen. Or, at least, he had tried. It had not always gone as expected. He had been written up and called to attention more than any other turian he knew, and yet he had been let off with no more than a warning, because his methods, although unorthodox, usually yielded results.

Palaven was his home, and still he felt as alien on it as he ever had. Perhaps even more so, now that he had served with Shepard and learned what freedom of speech and actions tasted like.

The rigidity bothered him greatly.

The trip back home was spent in awkward silence. Solana drove and focused on the skyroad, while Garrus looked out the window as the buildings zoomed past.

Same as always, Palaven. 

Soon enough, Sol was touching down and they were getting out of the skycar. Home at last. Or, at least, his old home. He hadn’t been here in so long that it barely felt like home anymore. No, right now, home was on the Normandy.

Home was wherever Shepard went.

Except Shepard was grounded, her communications cut off, and he had things to take care of on Palaven.

Stepping into his old house was like stepping into a time machine. Nothing had changed; it was exactly the same as it had been when he’d left. Garrus felt as though he had been punched in the gut with nostalgia, as memories from his childhood came rushing into his mind. 

And yet, something was… off. It took him a full minute to realize that it was the smell. Rather than the familiar smell of mom’s favorite flowers, which she used to place strategically all over the house, everything smelled… clinical. His house, the place where he had spent his childhood, smelled of hospital.

He should have expected this, he knew. It was painfully obvious that…

His train of thought was interrupted by a cough, and Garrus was shaken out of his reverie.

“Dad.” The surprised recognition fell from his mouth before he could even stop himself. Now  _this_  he had not expected. “What are you- shouldn’t you be… working?” the question wasn’t malicious, not even accusatory, but rather shocked. 

“I retired, son, remember?” Right. He kept forgetting that. His father was standing at parade rest, same old Dad as always. Upon close inspection, however, Garrus realized that he looked extremely tired, old beyond his years. There was a certain sad quality in his eyes, one that he had never even glimpsed before, and his entire demeanor was, at the very least, worrying. 

Garrus had never seen his father look as defeated and resigned as he did now, standing in the living room of the place he had once called home.

His heart dropped to his stomach, then twisted into a painful knot. “How is she?”

“I won’t lie to you, Garrus, she’s not doing well. She hasn’t been responding to treatment. She… she doesn’t–”

“Don’t. Please, dad, don’t.” He didn’t want to hear it. He had  _known_  what he was coming to, and now he realized that some stupid, incoherent and emotional part of him had been clinging to the false hope that his mother might make a recovery. That she could get better.

Solana, who had kept quiet during this entire exchange, gave Garrus an accusatory look.

“While you were out on your  _pleasure trip_ , I’ve been staying here taking care of mom. Not that you’d care, anyway. How did it go, Garrus, playing around and traversing the galaxy? I’m sure you had a blast.” Her tone was bitter and furious, cold as ice, each of her words a well-aimed shot to the heart.

She hit the target every damn time.

"I said I was sorry, Sol.” Garrus couldn’t keep the pain and regret off his subvocals, no matter how hard he tried. And yet, he  _knew_  that given the opportunity to go back and do things over, he wouldn’t change a  _damn_  thing.

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t change your not being here when we most needed you, Garrus.”

“Enough.” It was his father who called them both to attention. Garrus, who had been about to voice a retort, snapped his mouth shut.

“… sorry. It’s just… it’s been hard, you know? We needed you here, and instead we got vague replies and sporadic messages from you. There were times I thought you might have  _died_ , Garrus.” Solana’s anger had fizzled out, dissolved into sadness and misery and all the pain and resentment she had been keeping inside for so long.

"I… I know, Sol. I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t tell you where I was or what I was doing. It wasn’t–”

“A secure channel, I know. I just… we missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, little sister. Not that you’re all that small anymore, but…” it was a weak attempt at a joke, he knew, but he wanted to break the tension, and that was the best way he knew how. To his relief, Solana’s mandibles twitched a little, as his dad shook his head, perhaps apprehensively, perhaps in amusement–he didn’t know, and frankly, it didn’t really matter.

Ten minutes later, he was being guided to his mother’s room. The house wasn’t huge, and he could already hear the soft beeping of whatever machines she was hooked up to from a distance. Nervous and apprehensive, heart gripping painfully, Garrus flexed his fingers to try and ease off the tension in his muscles. Didn’t really work, unfortunately.

They were at the door. The smell of antiseptic was stronger here, almost reminiscent of Huerta. Sol looked up at him, placed a hand on his arm.

“I… don’t know what to tell you to expect. It’s… it’s bad, Garrus, it really is. She hasn’t recognized me in two weeks…” her voice had dropped to a soft, pained tone, barely audible over the beeping coming from the other side of the closed door. Garrus gulped, the knot at the pit of his stomach tighter and heavier than before, if that was even possible. “She asked about you a few days ago. Then again, she also asked about me…” a bitter and shrill laugh escaped her, and she shook her head to clear her mind. “Just… be gentle with her.”

“Sol, you don’t have to go in with me if you don’t want to, you know. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself now.”

“Yeah, right. Your face begs to differ, big brother.” Solana scoffed and placed her hand over the button that would open the door, fixing Garrus with a questioning look. 

He just nodded.

Their parents’ bedroom had been transformed into a makeshift hospital room of sorts. The furniture had been pushed against the walls to make room for the various machines squeezed in, reading his mother’s vitals to make sure she was stable. Their old double bed was gone, replaced with what Garrus could only describe as a hospital bed, and there was a military-issue cot at the far end of the room. Garrus guessed that was where his father had been sleeping lately.

His mother was sitting up in bed, reclining comfortably against several pillows while she read something from a datapad. She looked up as soon as the door opened, canted her head slightly, and finally put the datapad down.

“Garrus, my boy, I’ve been wondering where you’d ran off to. It’s been a while since you last visited, you should come more often. Who’s your lady friend?" 

This single line dealt Garrus a blow he could never have been ready for. On the one hand, he was relieved, relieved that his mother had recognized him, especially because it had been  _so long_  since he had last seen her. On the other hand, he had seen out of the corner of his eye how Solana had gone stiff, back straight, mandibles tight to her face. He didn’t know whether she was distressed, frustrated, angry or sad, but whatever it was she was feeling, it was obviously eating at her.

"Mom, I–” Sol elbowed him discreetly on the side. Right, yeah. “This is a good friend of mine, mom, I met her back on the Citadel.” He lied. A painful lie, yet a necessary one. Sol had warned him. Still, he hadn’t been ready, and his sister’s body language told him he probably never would be. “She uh… her name’s Myra.” He cleared his throat, shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Garrus? Your girlfriend, perhaps?” His mom gave him an accomplice look, her mandibles flicking before she turned her attention to Solana.

“It’s nothing like that, ma’am, we’re just good friends” Sol hurried to patch the situation, putting on a brave face as Garrus tried to regain his footing. He was having trouble finding his words, and the reality of his mother’s Corpalis was now greater and more tangible than it had ever been. “I just came to say hi, but I’ll be leaving now. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Vakarian.” How his sister managed to keep her act together, to keep her fake cheerful tone, was beyond him. With that, Sol turned on her heel and strode out, closing the door behind her and leaving them both alone.

“She seems nice.” His mother commented conversationally, patting the bed so he would join her. Happy to oblige, Garrus walked to her and sat on the edge, taking his mother’s hand in his.

“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier, mom, I was… busy." 

"Don’t be silly, child, your mother loves you no matter how long you are away.” She covered his hand with her free one, giving it a pat or two. “Spirits, Garrus, whatever happened to your face?” her tone was alarmed, as she leaned forward to get a better look.

“It’s… it’s a long story, mom. Got into a fight with some bad people. Paid the price for it, too. Not in full, of course, but I wouldn’t have made it out alive if it weren’t for… uh… for…” he trailed off, hoping she wouldn’t ask. He had been about to bring up Shepard, but now he wondered if that was a good idea. He also wondered if his mother was aware of what was happening to her. She just seemed… fine… to him. And that made his reality all the more painful, all the harder to accept. He had seen the lack of recognition in her eyes as she set them on Solana. A part of him knew it was only a matter of time before she gave him that look too.

“If it weren’t for whom, Garrus?” Damn it. He should have known she wouldn’t let it go. Never one to let things slip, his mom. Not even now.

“If it weren’t for Shepard. She’s uh… been my, uh… Commanding Officer these past four years.” A lame and incomplete explanation, if there ever was any. He almost wanted to kick himself.

“And…?”

“And uh…” Oh, crap, he wasn’t getting out of this one. Garrus cleared his throat, then took a very deep breath before continuing. Well, here went nothing. “… my girlfriend.”

His mother smiled knowingly at him, eyes warm and loving as she nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. I only wish I had longer, so that I could meet her.” His heart sank, his hand squeezed hers a little tighter, a lump formed on his throat. _No_.

“Mom. Mom, don’t–” he was interrupted by her bringing up a hand to cup his face. Her eyes were sad, but loving, a motherly look on her face. He could tell she was resigned, accepting of her fate.

“Shush. It’s alright. I know. I don’t have much longer, do I? But I am glad to go knowing that you are happy, Garrus. You always did have trouble finding someone. I feared…” she trailed off, and shook her head. Garrus’ vocal cords threatened to make a pained, keening noise. He swallowed it, pushed it deep down and sealed it tightly within him. He had to be strong for her. “Tell me about her, Garrus. She wouldn’t happen to be that human Spectre I’ve been hearing so much about, would she?”

Well, his mother was better informed than he imagine. Garrus gave yet another cough, and cocked his head before replying to his mom.

“Actually, mom…”

They talked for about an hour and a half, until she felt tired and drained and it was time for one of her various medications. She needed rest. Garrus brought his fringe to hers, bade her good night, and left, as she slipped into a heavy and drugged sleep.

 

* * *

 

Garrus opened the door to the room, carrying a tray with his mother’s lunch. She looked up at him and graced him with a vapid smile.

“Good day young man, how may I help you? I don’t believe we have met.”

No.  _No._  His heart felt as though it had been painfully squeezed, his mind screamed at him in agony. 

_She didn’t recognize him._

He had known that this day would come, and still he hadn’t been ready.

He had to be strong for her.

These feelings in him clashed and raged and kicked up a storm inside him. He wanted to run away, to get out of that room and not face what he knew was to come.

Another step towards the inevitable.

He swallowed it all. He would have time to let it all out later. Somehow, he drew courage from the deepest and most obscure nooks in his being.

He managed a smile.

“Good day, Mrs. Vakarian, I am your caretaker for the day.” He would never know where he had found the strength to keep his voice normal, when all he wanted to do was scream. He understood how Sol did it better now, he thought.

Garrus brought the tray to his mother and sat down at a chair by the bed.

That day, the unrecognizing look she had given him, the vapid smile she had greeted him with… they would all haunt him for weeks to come.


End file.
